Harry Le Fay
by No More Hogwarts
Summary: What if Sirius and Hagrid had not gotten to Harry in time and he was taken away to be raised by the darkest witch in history? Just in time for Halloween, Harry is raised by Morgana Le Fay. How will Hogwarts, the Ministry, and Voldemort handle a Powerful, Political and Intelligent Harry Potter? Harry/Harem.
1. Chapter 1

She had felt it, a rush of darkness, death and love that would have baffled a younger or less talented witch. Without a moment's hesitation she had followed it, shifting through air and shadow as easily as darkness itself before she appeared in what at first appeared to be a quaint cottage. Her long black tresses spilled over the shoulders of her gold spun cloak as she lowered her hood. Ice blue eyes gazed around a quaint living room without much care.

Her eyes did however pause on the moving pictures that surrounded the fireplace. At least she was in the home of a magic wielder, even if those who now ruled Magical Britain were but shadows of those who had come before. Their dependency on twigs and the body parts of creatures more powerful than they could have hoped to be was disgusting to her royal sensitivities. The family in the portraits though was smiling obviously happy despite the civil war that tore the country asunder.

If only she had managed to overthrow her traitorous brother, then the descendent of a peasant would never have thought he was capable of usurping her control. However, thanks to the bearded idiot and her bastard brother this was the state of her father's kingdom. Broken into quarters by the people who should have been serving her and her children, the mundane humans split by political alliances and those who worshiped the old fool by blood. Her lips almost sneered at the thought of her son, the failed plan of vengeance to take the throne from his father, her brother, and return it to her.

She jumped slightly as a cat streaked from the doorway to her right and through what she could see of the dining room to the back door. Curious she moved opposite of the feline tracing its steps which lead to the foyer. A bespectacled man lay dead upon the floor his feet were bare and she saw none of this generations preferred wands anywhere near his hands. Without pity or a glance back toward his prone form, her gaze moved the stairs where smoke rolled near the ceiling.

Daintily she stepped over the corpse of the unknown man and moved upward. The very air crackled with power as she neared the top of the landing, her eyes watching for any possible attacker. As she passed the last step, she felt a ward fall over her before her ears were assaulted with a child's cries. Glancing back at the stairs she wondered if the silencing ward was placed before the man downstairs died or after before deciding it was trivial and shaking the thought away.

Her black heeled boots clacked across the floor closer to the crying child and the source of power she felt on the stairs. A door was blown off its hinges roughly halfway down the hall leading to a room covered in yellow bear in a red shirt eating from jars labeled honey. Her eyes widened as she spotted the far wall however, mostly because there was no wall. A gaping hole of splintered wood showed the street outside and the twinkling stars that danced around the full moon.

A red head lie crumbled upon the floor, as bare of foot as the man downstairs, possibly his wife. Just a foot in front of the woman was a set of acromantula silk black robes and a twig of Yew. While she personally had never met the supposed Dark Lord that filled the peasants with such dread as to make his name taboo, she had heard rumors and stories from those whom wizard-kind now deemed beneath them. The heel of her boot splintered the white wand in two as her ice-like eyes finally deemed fit to fix on the crib.

A young babe sniffled as it looked up at her from behind its bars. The obvious baby boy's raven hair was a nest for stray birds though his emerald eyes glowed with power. His chubby hands reached up toward her and just as she had over a thousand years ago she stretched her long graceful fingers down to the infant and lifted him gracefully. He weighed quite a bit for a babe and she would guess him over a year old, though who he was she had no idea. Beneath his bangs a scar had already formed from the backlash of magic she had felt before arriving shaped like a bolt from Heaven.

A crash on the stairs caught her attention and she turned, automatically placing the babe on her hip as she took in the sight at the top of the stairs. A man stood there with shallow skin and the nose of a hawk and a twig in his hand. Lanky hair that looked to be filled with pond scum hung over his narrowed blackened eyes. His yellowing teeth were bared as his eyes drifted from her to the redhead on the floor. "Who has… what have you… what have I done," he had begun snarling but in the end dropped to his knees as his words turned to near incoherent sobs. His wand rolled from his relaxed fingers as he stared at the curvaceous woman who held the child.

With a glance into the man's eyes, she as easily as tearing through wetted paper tore through the shields he had created to hide his mind. "Severus Snape, the Betrayer of Love," she said condescendingly as he gaped at her in shock. "You gave the peasant masquerading as a lord part of a prophecy and thus started the events that ended this night. You killed your great love and her true love, and nearly her child. Harry is it?"

The potion's master could only stare at the woman who had laid his greatest sin down at his feet as though it were as nothing. She had ripped his Occlumency to pieces, something not even the Dark Lord had been able to do. He felt a shudder roll through him as the woman held herself up as if she was royalty, a Dark Queen that Bellatrix Lestrange could only hope to mimic.

As the seconds ticked by he realized the woman was holding Lily Evans' son, possibly planning to take him. He moved to grab his wand, only to feel every nerve ending in his body be set alight and stabbed at the same time. It was pain a thousand times worse than anything he had felt before. "None of that now," the woman said before she silenced the greasy haired man and quietly cooed at the toddler who had begun to scream along with the man on the floor. "There there, dear heart, would you care for a lullaby?"

With her attention diverted the pain lessened and Severus began to move again. His black eyes fixed on the woman's free hand waiting for her to draw her wand. However, a mere flick of her wrist caused chains with links as thick as a man's wrist to suddenly shackle him to the floor, his fingers just inches out of reach of his wand. His head though slowly twisted toward her, watching her move the boy to her bosom as he listened to the words that floated from between the woman's pouted lips.

"Hush, child, darkness will rise from the deep, and carry it down into sleep, child. Darkness will rise from the deep, and carry it down into sleep," she sang, sending shudders of dread through Snape's body as he realized who stood before him, holding the son of the woman he loved and singing him to sleep. He thrashed against the chains but they barely clinked enough to make noise. "Guileless son, I'll shape your belief, and you'll always know that your father's a thief. And you won't understand the cause of your grief, but you'll always follow the voices beneath."

The woman easily stepped past his struggling form as she hummed a few bars toward the infant who was quickly fading out. "Such a diamond among the ruff," she whispered and planted a kiss between the babe's eyes as it drifted off to sleep. "He'll be powerful when he's older, if taught correctly. But this will have to go," she said flippantly as she pressed a finger to the boy's scar and drew it back, coaxing a black mist from the boy's flesh. "How crude," she sneered and flicked her finger toward Snape's back, sending the mist flying toward his chained person.

A smile played at her lips as she watched the silenced man scream in agony. The roar of one of the two wheeled machines that people now preferred over horses brought her back into the moment. Of course if she had felt the attack others would know of it. Too refined to spew forth obscenities like some preferred to do, she simply frowned in agitation before her body faded into the air as she silently vanished from the quickly waking Godric's Hollow, the toddler asleep in her arms.

* * *

Fate reeled behind the woman's actions sending ripples through the future for years to come. While it was only Albus Dumbledore's testimony that kept Snape out of Azkaban for being found at the scene of the Potter's murder, the entire community snubbed the former Death Eater. The shops in Diagon Alley refused to give him service, sending him down into Knockturn Alley for potion supplies, even after he was hired to replace Horace Slughorn as the Potion's Professor at Hogwarts. The Headmaster though could not name him Head of Slytherin however placing Professor Vector who taught arithmancy into the roll instead.

Auror Sirius Black, who had brought Snape in that horrible night, was hailed as a hero. After divulging the truth of Marauder's animagus forms and the true secret keeper for the Potters under Veritaserum, he was fined a mere hundred galleons and a country wide search for Peter Pettigrew was put underway. Though the rat was never found, Sirius found himself thrust into the role of Head Auror, squeezing past the older and more experienced Rufus Scrimgeour. After taking the position he shifted priority from finding his traitorous friend to locating his godson.

With Sirius and Albus clashing over who would be the one to take care of Harry when he was located, the frog in woman's skin, Umbridge, tried to pass many laws and regulations against what she felt were mere halfbreeds. However, with half the Marauders still alive and with clear names, the arguing Head Auror and Headmaster easily swatted down her attempts to make it illegal for werewolves to marry, breed or work, or for the Ministry to seize Centaur lands. Thus, Remus Lupin was able to open a small second hand store with a loan from Sirius, and the two remained best friends.

With teams out searching for Pettigrew and Harry Potter, it was easy enough for a taskforce of aurors to arrive at the Longbottom's home when Alice first called for them. While they arrived too late to save Frank's sanity, Neville was able to grow up under his mother's care, well away from great-uncle Algie. While his grandmother still expects Neville to make his father proud, Alice is there to remind him that Frank would and probably is proud of his son, just for being who he is.

Albus Dumbledore though was at his wits end. Between his private and public battles with Sirius Black on custody of the Boy-Who-Might-Of-Lived he was bogged down with duties to Hogwarts, the International Confederation of Wizards, and the Wizengamot. His own searches for Harry Potter had been fruitless, no matter which wizarding government he turned too. It was nearly time for the boy to come to Hogwarts and though the letter would find Harry regardless of his location, the Headmaster could not. All he had to go on was his potion master's continuous argument.

"I've told you a thousand times, Headmaster. James Potter's brat was taken by Morgana Le Fay!"

* * *

**_AN:_** I always enjoyed powerful, political and intelligent Harry stories also having him with a Harem of girls. But there are not enough Morgana Le Fay stories! I demand more, and so, for Halloween I decided to write one. How will being raised by Morgana Le Fay alter Harry's Hogwarts years? Quite a bit actually with what I have planned. Please, leave a review. Bye now.


	2. Chapter 2

Morgana stood in a gown of emerald silk as her ice blue eyes watched the aged blacksmith of the lone village on the island of Avalon measure the boy she had taken in and raised as a son. She had no qualms standing so near the anvil atop pest infested and trampled hay and dirt. She had been born in an age where such things were more common than the roads traveled by carriages. She might have been a princess and now stood as Avalon's Dark Queen, but she still remembered her youth with her sisters prancing barefoot in the fields.

Harry had grown quite well in the years under her care. Tutors had been brought in from the village and from outside Avalon on a few occasions to teach the young boy his studies. While she taught him what most considered Old English, she had brought a few witches from her home country to teach him the modern language. The dark haired boy who stood as proper as any prince knew various languages thanks to her coffers and those she could bring to teach him.

Of course, all were paid handsomely to keep their lips sealed on the Heir of Le Fay. A simple enough trading of blood had seen the boy's appearance alter enough to not cause suspicion in his being England's savior. The rat's nest had been tamed and was now held into what was known now as a pony's tail or some such. His skin was tanned from hours in the sun training with a sword and bow or horseback riding and hunting for food. His birth mother's eyes had held though, still shaped like almonds and green, but they were almost as ice like as the queen's own.

As their bloods had mixed beneath the moonless night sky his body had healed itself, removing the pesky scar from his brow that had marred his face. It seemed as though only yesterday that she had held a second son for the first time and now he stood before the blacksmith for measurements for a tiny suit of armor as well as armored fittings for special occasions. Glancing up toward the sky she marked the position of the sun and sighed, it would soon be time for young Harry's next tutor to arrive to teach him about the Britain's magical community, everything from school to the government.

She had hired a young witch, recently graduated from Hogwarts. Her pale pink lips nearly smirked at the memory of the school's first opening. While she herself had been several centuries old by the time the four youths had decided to open magical education to the masses, she had ventured from her hidden home to watch the proceedings. Only the old fraud Emrys, now known as Merlin for some unknown reason, had been able to detect her presence, and had taken a seat beneath Gryffindor's ratted hat to be sorted, taking his place in Slytherin with the other poisonous serpents.

"All set, M'lady," the blacksmith Hephaestus said with a smile at the Dark Queen. Morgana liked the former Olympian as much as she did any peasant, his previous status as a god not affecting her at all. He had descended to the mortal realm after finally having had enough of his wife's affair with the god of war. "I should have everything within the week, and a week and a half after that tops before the young prince will have armor fit for a god."

"Not a god, Hephaestus, a King," she reminded him with a slight smile as her hand enclosed around her son's shoulder. "How much will the palace need to pay for these purchases," she asked carefully. The town was very self-sufficient, only needing to look outward for supplies for certain things. The materials for Harry's armor were to come from the dwarves in the Himalayas as an example. While the Queen taxed the town, she also spent all her funds inside the town in a never ending loop.

The massive figure waved his hand at the offer of payment. "I still owe you M'lady for giving me safe haven after my desertion from the Mount," he said smiling, his gaped teeth yellowed by time and breathing in the smoke of his forge. "It's not every day a prince turns ten now is it? Consider a present from my shop."

His mother's hand squeezing his shoulder brought Harry's first words to the open air. "Thank you Master Hephaestus. You're skills are of course legendary even to those of us on Avalon," the dark haired boy said calmly. His chin was held high and his shoulders thrown back as he spoke, just the way his mother had taught him. Glancing for a moment behind him at his mother's elegantly raised eyebrow he turned back to the former god. "We're having a gathering in the palace for my birthday next month and we would be honored if you came."

"A party sounds like it would be fun," the mammoth of a man said as he eased himself down onto the crates of wood he used for the forge. "Are you finally planning to invite some youth's to the island my queen? The boy's 'bout the right age to begin courting, do you not think?"

The raven haired woman bristled slightly at the mention of her son courting. Why should she invite a number of young harlots to her lands and into her castle to begin weaving their webs around her son? "I will think on it," she said in a cold voice that made the old blacksmith wrinkle his eyebrows. "We must be going Master Hephaestus; the Prince's new tutor will be arriving soon."

"Aye, right then," Hephaestus grunted as he stood to show the two to the road where Morgana's carriage and Harry's steed awaited them. "I've also got what you asked for nearly ready, my queen," the man attempted to whisper, only to send a shock of rotting breath into the woman's face. "That will cost you a pretty copper."

"Understood," Morgana said casting a glance toward her son who waited by the open carriage door. Taking his hand she gracefully ascended into the cherry red interior of her coach. "I will visit again soon, Hephaestus. How does a fortnight from today measure with you? I will be able to retrieve my heir's purchases then," she asked as she closed the coach's door and peered out the roughly square hole in the door.

"Sounds fine to me," the former god said as he easily lifted the prince up and onto his eighteen hands chocolate colored Clydesdale. The massive blacksmith was smiling widely at the thought of what Morgana had him craft. He never would have contemplated it if it had been any other woman, but the dark beauty could always get him to do things no one else could. After all, he owed her for his home on the island that granted the bulk of its citizens with eternal youth. Only Morgana's magic kept her son from being a baby forever, protecting from Avalon's natural power until he came of age.

As his steed trotted behind his mother's carriage up the main road of Avalon he thought about the chance to meet children his own age. There were no children on Avalon apart from himself, if any had lived on the island they had long since left in order to grow up. Of course, he didn't really have time to play with his studies and practices, not like when he was younger and his mother would take him into the courtyard of their castle and play with him. Now she was more focused on his grooming to become King, to retake the land the bastard Pendragon had stolen from his mother's family.

Despite the safety afforded by the island that could not be found by any but those who already knew its location, he kept his eyes peeled for dangerous on the trek back to their home. By doing so, he noticed the sails of a ship down by the dock, a difficult spot to see from Hephaestus' shop. He knew the bulk of his tutors came from the outside world and had to come by ship as no magic from beyond the salted water would reach the island, but still the sight of a ship always sent a thrill through his young body.

He had spent his entire life on the island learning to wield a sword and bow or learning languages and magic. The hardest part had been the meditation required to silence his mind and empty it of all thought as he had studied Occlumency. His mother, while kind, could be rather strict when it came to his preparation to return to the outside world. However, the sight of a ship always made him long for adventure away from the mythical island, to see the wonders his tutors told him about first hand.

As the village fell away behind them, the towers of the ancient castle began to crest the hill on the horizon. Despite her ease with the peasants of the village, his mother was a loner and thus the distance between the castle and the village was necessary to keep her paranoia at bay. No human worked within the castle walls beyond Harry's tutors, instead magical creatures often found their way into their employment.

A herd of centaur patrolled the thick blanket of forest that stretched from the sides and behind the castle the sea and a number of house elves kept the stone building clean. Goblins were a recent change as Morgana's plans came closer to being put into effect. They bought properties and businesses in her name both magical and mundane, charging the original owners rent instead of taxing them as the Dark Queen stepped closer to her goal. Even Morgana's coach was pulled along by a mix of winged horses and threstrals and steered with the help of a pair of leprechaun twins.

As they approached the opened gate, operated by orcs, his green eyes, free of spectacles spotted the rough wood carriage that brought his tutors from the village. Behind it stood a young woman dressed in a fashion Harry knew only came from the outside world. A pair of tight fitting jeans hugged her shapely tight backside and a black t-shirt with the words 'WEIRD SISTERS' spread across her ample chest. Surprisingly though her hair was cropped short like a boy's and spiked up, oh and it was pink, but that wasn't that odd considering the lime green hair on the leprechauns.

Despite the semi usual occurrence of his tutor's arriving to the castle, Harry's hand still moved to rest on the hilt of his sword as he rode through the gates. As he slid off his horse to open his mother's coach door, one of the elves appeared to lead his horse away. After helping his mother from her coach, he walked slightly behind her to the unknown woman who was struggling with her luggage. "Ah, young Nymphadora Tonks how nice it is to finally meet you," the queen greeted.

The pink haired woman looked up, finally seeming to notice the pair of royals striding to her. Dropping her luggage, she nearly fell over herself in an attempt to curtsey while wearing jeans. "You're majesty, it is an honor to meet you," the woman said, her hair turning from pink to a light red as she blushed in both embarrassment at being caught unaware and anger at the use of her first name. "If you'd please, it's just Tonks. I'm not fond of my first name."

"Of course, I never cared for nymphs myself," Morgana said smoothly as she let her cold eyes glance over the woman. "Much too playful and lazy, I doubt they'd ever present a gift to anyone with any actual meaning behind it," she explained to no one in particular. "This is my son, Harry, he'll be your student for the next year," she introduced her son, snaking an arm around his shoulders.

"I know the Goblins held back quite a bit of information when they hired you, merely stating a well paying job for a royal family of magic users," she said in a bored voice having had given the speech many times over the years. "While I am glad you were adventurous enough to take their offer, I feel introductions are in order. As you, my son's name is Harry, not Harrison or Harold or anything overly stuffy, just Harry, and I am," she paused, enjoying the suspense it caused, "am the Queen of Avalon, Morgana Le Fay."

The teen's hair changed again from red to yellow as the idea of just who she was under magical contract to work for a year under clicked in. "O..o…oh," she stuttered, her eyes also changing to match the color of her air. "It's a pl… pleasure to meet you," she said with as much conviction as she could, as she curtsied again only to trip on her own luggage and plant her face into the dirt. Looking up she caught sight of the darkest witch in history and her son both looking at her with rather alarmed expression. '_Merlin's left nut, what I have gotten myself into_,' she wondered to herself.

* * *

**_AN:_** I couldn't let it go this chapter just begged me to write it! Before any of you get too excited, nor Tonks won't be part of Harry's harem of girls, nor will she be with Remus. But she will be paired with a certain royal, so if you don't like Girl+Girl, I suggest abandoning ship now.

Now, some girls will be at Harry's party, political alliances and all that, and to rub Malfoy's nose in his son not getting an invitation. I have the guest list for Harry's birthday party already made up. It will include some of the who's who of the wizarding world that will have sons and daughters older or younger than Harry. There will not be any Boy+Boy in this story, just Girl+Girl and Hetero, so all you fan girls don't get your hopes up on Harry getting 'buggered' anytime soon.

Please don't forget to review, and I'll have the next chapter up as soon as I can.


	3. Chapter 3

"I feel silly," the young prince muttered as he took in his reflection in the mirror. His hair had been tied back while a thin silver crown rested on his brow. A crimson cloak was clasped around his throat, a set of thin shoulder armor kept it from bunching up in the back, instead letting it fall over his arms while exposing the gold silk shirt he wore and black trousers. Black riding boots were laced up to his shins as he turned to look at the house elf that had been helping him dress. "Milly, I feel like a right poofter."

"Nows, nows Prince Harrys," the elf said as she examined his face and hair closely before turning her gaze onto his clothes for any stray threads. "You is looking as a proper prince nows. Milly remembers stories her mother told her about the Prince's older brother, Master Mordred. He was always being properly princey, never running out into the mud like certain someones," the bat eared creature said with a raised eyebrow at the now blushing boy.

The young boy often wondered about his older brother, not that his mother would discuss it. The tidbits he got where from either the villagers who remembered the feather haired boy or the servants who had been alive then comparing the two of them. From what he could gather Mordred had wound up as mad as a hatter and had eventually turned his skills upon the full of his family, including their mother. Though whatever Mordred's fate was it still eluded the young boy to this day.

"Be that as it may, Milly, Mordred was a monster," the raven haired boy said as the elf finished her inspection of him. "If the stories I've heard are anything to go by, he was infinitely more dangerous than that Voldemort fellow in the Kingdom. I think I shall strive to be everything my brother was not. He was far too impulsive, with no fear of his actions backfiring on him. No, with Madam Tonk's lessons I'll be prepared to take back mother's kingdom before I've sat my N.E.W.T.s."

The elf nodded her head as she stepped back. "Stills, a very Happy Birthday to you Prince Harrys," she said with a genuine smile which the young wizard returned. "Yous is growing up so fast. It is like only yesterday that Milly was fetching you nipples to shush you down, or helping your mother un-tie her dress to be feeding you." The elf smirked at Harry's blushing face at the thought of his suckling from his mother's tit. With a silent cackle the elf popped away leaving a very frustrated prince in her wake.

Nearly snarling at his crazed personal elf, the young man reached toward the bed and grabbed the pale gold shin and arm guards before strapping them on himself. "You look as sweet as the day I first held you in my arms," a gentle voice said from his door when he was finished causing him to turn quickly. His mother stood in the doorway, dressed in an elegant ball gown sewn from the finest of linens in the same of green as a distant hazy forest. "My prince, you're subjects are waiting for us, we must not keep them."

With a nod the youth walked toward the woman who raised him stopping only when he stood a foot from her unmoving form. "I'm very proud of the man you're becoming," she whispered as she knelt down in front of him and began to straighten his clothing. "You're brother, Mordred was my sin," she said for the first time mentioning his older brother in front of him and allowing him to know she had heard his and Milly's conversation. "I might be what they call a dark witch, but I do pay as much attention to your tutors as you do. Morded was inbred, something the wizarding purebloods would have loved, but his mind was weak and the dark arts I taught him drove him over the edge."

"We don't need to discuss it now, mother," Harry said before he stepped closer to the woman and hugged her tightly. He felt the witch's arms wrap around his frame and her cheek brushing against his as he nodded. "Now, come along mother, we must not keep our guests waiting," he mirrored her own words back to her, causing her to host the ghost of a smile as she returned to her feet. Silently the two moved through the halls of the old enchanted castle before leaving their private wing and moving quickly to the room that boasted Avalon's throne where the ball would commence.

As they neared the grand throne room they came upon overly boyish tutor, Tonks, fighting with a gown of aquamarine. She had changed her hair to match the fabric of the gown that was causing her to fidget and constantly rearrange her breasts in both position and size to fit more comfortably. Her heart shaped faced held only the barest touches of blush and eye shadow, her pale pink lips glistening with a simple layer of lip balm. "Why won't this ruddy thing fit," she growled, not yet having noticed her employers approach.

"Miss Tonks," Morgana's soft voice sliced through the air with the ease of a warm knife through butter. The blue haired witch looked up to see the two members of Avalon's royal family, one of whom having the reputation of being able to Voldemort to shame, and blanched. "That dress was designed by the house elves to fit your true body, my idea to be honest," the dark witch explained as she stepped away from her son to help. "If you merely returned to your natural state the dress will stop being such a hassle."

Tonks looked at the witch in shock at such a suggestion before giving in and nodding with a sigh. It was either play the dark queen's game or be uncomfortable the entire night. Not unlike a candle melting, her image melted and changed and like wax, her hair darkening to a raven sheen as her body thinned at just above her expanding hips revealing an hourglass figure. Her breasts evened out at a C cup as her skin paled and her eyes changed to a dark muddy brown.

Morgana smiled at the changes that the young woman had undertaken. "You could have been Guinevere's twin," she remarked casually. "But now the fabric is simply the wrong color," she muttered before flicking a finger lazily. The gown shifted from aquamarine to a deep gold with black sequins. "I believe you've mentioned a fondness of the pallet used by your school dormitories?"

"Thank you," the young witch said with a blush as she looked down at her natural form for the first time in years. "I… I don't often look like this since the boy's were always trying to chat me up," she admitted with a blush. "I was young when I started to…um, grow up. The older boy's coming on to me made me nervous so I changed what I looked like, hoping someone would just like me for me."

Harry strolled forward and held out his hand for the teenager in front of him. Confused at first she reached out to him and her dark eyes opened wide as he placed a kiss to her knuckles. "Lady Tonks, you look as if you were of divinity. Truly you shall be the most gazed upon angel of tonight's assembly, well, just behind mother of course."

"You are related to the Blacks are you not," Morgana finally asked after a moment to scrutinize over her employee's looks. At the woman's hesitant nod the queen allowed the corners of her mouth to draw up. "The origins of the Blacks have been forgotten by the common people for some time, but I was alive to witness it. Guinevere's betrayal of my oaf of a brother with his man Lancelot bore a son. My brother was so enraged he struck the boy with the name Atratus which means Black in the Latin tongue. Guinevere's looks always ran strongly in the softer sex of the family."

"Enough idle chat for now though," she suddenly said before turning her gaze onto her son. "It is time for young Harry's birth celebration to commence. The guests should have all arrived by now, including some special ones just for tonight." With a nod toward the faun standing beside the door she once more did a quick check over the three of them to make certain their clothing was in order.

"Introducing, the tutor of the Avalon's Prince, the Lady Nymphadora Tonks," the faun bleated before some light applause broke out through the room beyond. With a nervous look over her shoulder the young woman stepped through the door way and was met with splendor she had never even dreamed of. What at first looked like streamers hanging low around the walls were in truth spun gold and silver, something she thought only existed in fairy tales. The torches on the walls and the chandelier above her head burned with different shades of fire ranging from a beautiful purple to near neon green.

Figures from every conceivable magical race stood about at random in the room while politely clapping. She was almost certain that she had seen the goblin king, Ragnarok, glaring at a pair of snickering leprechauns. A few centaur and faun were scattered about as the lumbering figure of the island's blacksmith stood near the back next to a dais where a long crimson sheet had been thrown over a table of objects. Apart from the other races were the wizards and witches, looking quite out of place as they glared disapprovingly at the other creatures and seemingly trying to protect their children with their bodies.

An elderly woman near the outskirts of the human grouping was glaring daggers at her while shielding a small boy, probably around Harry's age, behind her leg. Her pale green robes clashed horribly with her oversized handbag and the rotting stuff vulture sitting atop her hat. Ignoring the woman and the child with her, she walked with more grace than even she knew she possessed to the end of the pathway leading to the ornate throne in the room before stepping aside and finding herself among the centaur population.

"Please kneel for her most royal grace, the Queen of Avalon and Daughter of the fay," the faun called out and watched as nearly every person in the room either knelt on one knee or at least bowed before continuing. Every eye watched the door way as the queen stepped into view, a golden tiara sitting atop her brow and filled with tiny sparkling gems. "_Her Majesty Morgana the First, by the Grace of God, of Great Britain, Ireland and the British Dominions beyond the Seas Queen, Defender of the Fay_.," the faun called out.

At once the air in the room shifted as many wizards and witches jumped to their feet in shock, horror or awe as the fabled woman supposedly stood before them. The more animalistic creatures gave a cry as the woman moved passed, bowing to what at first seemed to be random partiers. Only Tonks and a few of the more knowledgeable purebloods realized that she was greeting only the leaders of the creatures represented. Finally she reached the throne and turned to gaze upon the audience, taking them all in before nodding to the faun once again, not yet taking her seat.

The faun licked his lips as his hooves trotted a bit upon the ground. While introducing the Queen was the most important thing he would do tonight, he knew what he was about to do was far more important to the dark witch than what had been done for her. "His Royal Highness The Prince Harry James Gorlois Le Fay, Prince of Avalon, Lord of the Magical Isles, Royal Knight Companion of the Most Noble Order of the Fay, Royal Knight Companion of the Most Ancient and Most Noble Order of the Round Table, Member of Her Majesty's Most Honourable Privy Council, Aide-de-Camp to Her Majesty."

While the magically inclined creatures applauded the wizards were silent. Even Tonks' body had seized up upon hearing the youth's second names for the first time. The boy himself stepped into the room with his head held high and a smile on his lips at the sight of so many having come to celebrate his birthday. "Blimey! It's Harry Potter," a child's voice called out of the stone silence from the human portion of the room. That was all it took for all Hell to break loose.

**_AN:_** Someone shoot the little brat for ruining Harry's birthday party! Am I evil for leaving it there? Not a whole lot to say, just that my real life responsibilities have been trying to grind my muse to dust which is why there was a wait for this chapter. Next chapter is will probably be a lot of yelling, then gifts, then a feast! Don't forget to review please.


	4. Chapter 4

"Blimey! It's Harry Potter," Pansy Parkinson's scratchy voice called out as her dull blue eyes locked on the princely figure walking down the aisle. Oh how she wished the Malfoy heir her parents had engaged her to could look so regal, but he was only the heir to a lordship not a full blown prince. She blushed though, from her hair to her neck as she realized what she had just done. She had interrupted the ceremony and now she could practically feel the magic of those around her become excitable.

Shouts soon carried out among the human's present, each calling out its own shock at finding the lost Potter boy in Le Fay's castle. "SILENCE," a voice called out the intent and will alone providing the magic for a room wide silencing spell to take hold. All eyes turned upon a very agitated Dark Witch as she glared furiously at the wizards and witches assembled. "So this is what the people of the Kingdom have become? A zealous group of celebrity hounds? I invite you into my castle to attend my heir's tenth celebration of his birth and you behave like a pack of wild dogs?"

Her eyes scanned the group of humans before landing on the girl who had originally called out. "You, come stand before us, Child." Gulping, Pansy moved away from the protection of her mother and father to step closer to the magnificent gold throne as the Prince, his face a tightly controlled mask of indignation, walked to his mother's side. "Now, girl, tell us what makes you believe that my son is this Harry Potter you called out?"

The young raven haired girl's hair stood on end as the magic that bound her vocal words was released. "I… I'm sorry You Grace, but the newspapers back home described him," she stated quickly. "Messy black hair, his mother's eyes, his father's poor eyesight and the need for glasses, and the lightning bolt scar…" she trailed off as she gazed at the tanned boy, his hair tamed and slicked back in a ponytail, no glasses adorning his icy green eyes and no scar upon his forehead. "Almost none of which describes the prince, please forgive me."

"Do not fret, child," the queen said as she sat back on her throne, a faun rushed forward with a chair immediately for Harry to sit on seconds after his mother had sat. "You are quite right, the Prince before you was at one time, Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily Potter," the crowd would have gasped if their vocals weren't still seized up by a power so great even their wands couldn't undo it. "However, that was before the blood adoption beneath the full moon, regenerating his body and adding my blood to the mix. He is now, and forever more, Harry Le Fay."

With a twitch of her finger the adults and children other than Pansy seemed to gulp for air. "Not that any of you can tell anyone," she continued with a smirk upon her lips. "The invitation held a special wording and incantation. 'All who are invited may attend as no word of the events that take place may be spread'. You are all bound by magic to never breathe a word of my son's true identity until such time as he and I feel the need to release it."

The woman in the Vulture topped hat stepped forward, nearly bristling with indignation. "So you cast a spell on us without our knowledge and have turned the Boy-Who-Lived into some sort of Dark Lord in training," she asked furiously, her aged face hardened as she kept a grip on the back of her son's shirt. "If I had known this would be a Dark Wizard gathering I would have never accepted."

The queen had to fight the urge to throw her head back and laugh. "Light and Dark are such quaint notions on magic, how it works, and those who use it. No light is pure, Madam, and no darkness unfathomable. Take old Emrys, Merlin for you younger generations," she added looking at many children's confused faces. "You hold him in such esteem; ignoring the fact he worked with Uther Pendragon to start a war for my mother. He cast a glamour spell on Uther to give him the appearance of my father to bed my mother and breed that retched bastard Arthur as my father lay dying on the battlefield. Merlin was far darker than you'd care to imagine."

Harry was bored listening to his mother go on about things he had known since infancy, she had told him the story countless times. Instead, like any ten year old would, his eyes gazed longingly on the table covered in gifts and food. He also idly wondered what Hephaestus had hidden under the cloth, just what could a god make for a boy like him? He also wondered if the other kids would like to horseback riding, or maybe play tag like he and his mother often did when they had time. "Mother, perhaps you and the other adults would like to meet after the party," he hazarded saying, his voice seemingly ripping the woman away from her tales of Merlin's past exploits.

"Quite right, darling," Morgana said with a compassionate smile toward her young son. "It is time for gifts and then the feast. We older folks can talk about our boring old lives and view points while you children entertain yourselves," the queen said with false serenity as she her eyes returned to the fuming aged woman. "Go on now, dear, open your presents and make friends amongst those your own age."

With glee only often found in the young, Harry jumped out of his chair and quickly grabbed both a shivering Neville and a still tomato faced Pansy and pulled them to the table lined with gifts. "Come along, come along, I'll open yours first," he said excitedly as he found he began looking through the marked gifts. It suddenly occurred to him he didn't know anyone's names. "My apologies, I have forgotten to request your names."

"Pansy P… Parkinson."

"N…Neville Longbottom."

"Right, Parkinson and Longbottom," he said as he bit his lower lip in an attempt to memorize their names to go along with their faces. After several seconds his eyes turned to the presents again. "Milly, bring me the presents of Parkinson and Longbottom," he called out, and a moment later the little elf appeared handing Harry two presents. "My thanks to you, Milly, I'll probably require your services to find the other children's presents as well."

Looking between the two presents and then back up at the children he smiled. "Ladies first," he said before tearing the brown wrappings and revealing a broom care servicing kit. "Oh my, how did you know I like to fly," he asked with a smile at Pansy which caused the girl to blush even more. Setting her gift aside he proceeded to tear apart Neville's present, revealing a small sapling in a pot. "An Abyssinian Shrivelfig," he said happily with a look at the pudgy boy whose eyes went wide at the fact the Prince knew what it was. "They don't grow on the island naturally, but my tutors in herbology and potions spoke about its uses in shrinking solutions. I shall treasure this gift Neville Longbottom and yours as well, Pansy Parkinson."

And it continued down the line as Harry gathered quite a pile consisting from books to what peasants obviously considered high fashion. With each gift the Prince conversed with the child of the family who had brought it keeping a happy smile on his face as he finally celebrated a birthday with children his own age. From the centaurs and fauns, Harry gathered lots of specialized herbs and fungi and even a few small tree saplings which he promised to look after.

The goblins though held back near Hephaestus, talking to the former god in low tones and in their own language which the god seemed to understand rather well. Finally the big man stepped forward, dwarfing everyone in front of him. "My Prince, as a gift for you I worked closely with the Goblins and Dwarves to produce something astounding using a combination of magic and the mundane humans' technology." Stepping back he tore the sheet from an array of metallic apparel. "I took a leave from the village to meet with the Fates. Though they would not tell me all, they told me that this helm and armor would be but the beginning of your true title."

The armor was shimmering silver in color, linked together by a thick black material the prince had never before encountered. Though the armor appeared thick it was scattered about almost at random with large gaping openings that revealed the thick black material beneath. Some whispers of discontent could be heard about the use of muggle inventions, but they were ignored by those who knew just how advanced the technology outside their world was. "I will go more in depth about its abilities later my prince, but we have named it 'Mjolnir'," the former god said with a gap toothed smile.

Harry gazed in wonder at the armaments wanting to try them then and there, but he knew his mother would never allow it. "They are beautifully constructed, Hephaestus. I would have expected no less being the products of the dwarves, goblins and a fallen god." The former god smiled at the praise as the goblin's moved forward and produced a heavy packet. A quick flip through showed Harry the receipts and papers for the biggest purchase he and his mother had yet dared. The deed of the Ministry of Magic stared up at him and caused him to smirk at the goblins who answered his with their own. "We'll keep this between us until we can speak to mother."

"Speak to me about what dear," Morgana's voice said from over his shoulder, making him jump. Turning he saw his mother's sharp gaze take in the papers in his hand before she gently took them from him. "Indeed, we will speak more of this later," she said adding a smirk of her own to the goblins as she handed the papers back to them for safe keeping. "Now, for your mother's gifts," she said before pressing a kiss to her son's temple causing him to blush in front of his future subjects.

"Hephaestus if you would," the queen said with a look at the blacksmith who pulled the cloth from before back further, revealing a glimmering sword of a metal Harry had never before seen. The blade was a shimmering opal white and nearly as tall as the prince and just as wide with a glimmering ruby at the base. The guard was curved toward the hilt with four poles aimed in the upward around the curve. The hilt was bare of ornaments, a strong rod that called to the young wizard.

Reaching forth with both hands, Harry grabbed the hilt and struggled as he lifted the weapon off the table, nearly collapsing and dropping it. The blade shimmered before a peaceful blue hue formed along its middle, leaving the outer edge so white it nearly seemed transparent. "This is not a toy, my darling," Morgana said quietly as the whole room hushed at the sight of the weapon. "As Arthur held Excalibur you now hold a sword created by the divine of your very own. It is an ultimate weapon with which you shall guard your kingdom."

* * *

**_AN:_** Another chapter down, didn't get to the feast, sorry. I'll give three guesses as to what the armor and sword are from though, and yes I did steal them for the purpose of an ultimately badass King Harry. I'll give you a hint though; I really like the number 7. Whoever names them both can decide the first girl in Harry's harem, so long as it isn't Ginny. And you have to have PM accessible, or else how am I going to get a hold of you?


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